Undeniably Besotted
by themasterofescapism
Summary: 'They all thought he was mad as it was, so why not go all out' Merlin has many sides, and one he's held hidden from Arthur for a bit too long. Now the truth comes out in an unexpected fashion.


The sharp metal plunged with vehemence into the painted wooden target. Merlin's ardor found no difficulty in expressing itself through his favourite hobby. No magic, no tricks, just raw talent and strength. The one thing that he could feel openly proud about. He practised daily without failure and that day was no different, aside from the convenient venting he was engrossed in as he did it.  
Each knife he threw, each target he hit, each satisfying site of the shining blade spinning in the air then disappearing in the wood. Every time his annoyance, verging on outright anger, trickled away with one more drop. He'd had enough of that pretentious dollop-head. Clean the stalls, wash his clothes, shine his armour then his boots, fetch him supper, bring him wine, carry all of his training equipment, and worst of all: endure his sword practice by playing the target. Merlin's head had rang for half an hour straight with all the clangs of Arthur's sword against the oversized helmet.  
The recollection fuelled his next throw and the knife sang through the air, slipping into the target with perfect ease.  
'Shouldn't you be helping the rest of servants organise for tonight's banquet?' that same voice erupted behind him.  
'They requested I stay far away from the whole event after I accidentally set the cook's apron on fire,' Merlin said monotonously. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as he sensed the King-to-be move forward and stand watching over his shoulder. 'I'd move, unless you want an elbow in your face.'  
His warning got through and Arthur stepped to the side, an eyebrow raised in question. 'Her apron on fire you say? I can't say it's beyond you.'  
Merlin's eyes were caught by Arthur's for just a moment, but it was enough to cause a violent clash of mixed emotions. His mind seethed with irritation, but his heart stuttered as it was besotted with Arthur's enthralling gaze. Just Arthur standing still made his stomach twist with nerves and broil with anger all at once. 'Yes, well, I'm sure you relish every mistake I make.'  
He forced his eyes away and adjusted his stance, picking up the last knife, then with all the force and grace he could muster hurled it towards the last target. The final threads of tension in his shoulders were pulled apart and unknotted. Merlin let loose a deep breath of satisfaction. The knife's grip protruded from the target, dead centre and proud.  
Arthur scoffed. 'Anyone can do that.'  
Merlin felt the corner of his mouth twitch up when he felt the slightest edge of a challenge coil around the already tense atmosphere. 'Well if anyone can do it, why don't you give it ago? Sire.'  
'I don't see why not,' Arthur consented, raising his chin with arrogant pride and a daring glint in his brilliant-blue eyes. 'Let's make it more interesting though. Raise the odds. If I can hit one out of three bulls eyes, you have to wear one of Guinever's dresses to tonight's banquet.'  
'Deal. But if I hit one out of three bulls eyes, I don't have to lift a finger for you. No mucking of the horses stables, no running you baths. Nothing. For a month.' Merlin grinned inwardly to himself at his well thought out prize for trumping Arthur. After all, he would beat him. Even if the royal prat didn't know it yet.  
'Deal,' Arthur said, his haughty expression filled with expectant success. Merlin gave him a mocking bow as he collected the knives, handing three to him and keeping three for himself. 'I'll go first then, shall I?'  
Merlin watched bemused as Arthur got into position and drew one arm back, knife in hand. He threw it ahead and with a mighty clang it hit the wall of the castle and fell to the grass. Merlin held back his laughter and covered his mouth to hide his amusement when Arthur looked back at him with narrowed eyes. He started into position for the second knife and this one managed to wedge itself into the outermost ring of the wooden target. Without pausing Arthur threw the last knife and it hit the centre. Centre of the bucket of water a castle servant was carrying, who jumped in shock and dropped it, the water spilling out.  
'Throwing knives is a cowardly endeavour. I'd rather battle my foes sword to sword,' Arthur defended as Merlin took his place.  
'You're not battling foes, though are you?' he remarked as Arthur passed him to stand out of the way, receiving a glower. Merlin eyed the targets and twirled the first knife in hand casually, building up momentum and gaining an irritated scowl from Arthur. In a split second the knife cut through the air and into the small red circle. The next hit the centre with no difficulty and the last did so with such power it sent splinters flying out.  
'How did you,' Arthur began but he fell silent.  
'So a month, then?'  
'What?' It was that moment in which Merlin saw it dawn on Arthur's face that he'd have to get dressed himself, clean his shoes himself and all the rest. He'd never felt to satisfied and smug. 'A month, and only a month.'  
'I wonder how I'll spend my free time,' Merlin said wistfully, folding his arms and grinning ear to ear. He was surprised to see Arthur smile gently in response.  
'If you can do that, why is it I'm always saving your life?' he asked with genuine curiosity and just the slightest hint of teasing.  
'Bad luck I suppose,' Merlin answered with a nonchalant shrug. When he looked back up at Arthur he was caught off guard. Arthur had that rare look of adoration and an endearing sparkle in his eyes.  
'Just when I think I have you figured out you go and do something so amazing, or ridiculous, or both; usually both actually, amazingly ridiculous. Scratch that it's always something amazingly ridiculous with you. Knife throwing? Are you sure you're just a manservant?' Arthur went off on a rant and that intense buzz Merlin had felt dissipated instantly. He couldn't help but feel the disappointment that welled up in his heart.  
The day moved slowly from that point on until the warm evening came about. The sun had yet to set and burned far off on the horizon, casting streaks of rich amber, deep violet and soft pink into the sky. Camelot was bathed in the golden hue and shadows grew longer as it sank further behind the tree-tops and hills.  
In the main hall the tables were set out and a chorus of laughter and polite chatting filled the air, some voices thicker with the effects of liquor than others but all joyous nonetheless. Merlin had been forced to attend by request of Gaius, ruining a wonderful evening of pouring through books and practising his hand at knives or magic.  
'I thought you'd be lazing about somewhere,' Arthur commented from his seat when he saw Merlin approach.  
Merlin sighed. 'I thought so too. Turns out I need to be here, something to do with keeping up a reputation.'  
He needed to be there to protect Arthur in actuality, but he couldn't say that, no matter how much he wanted to. The knives had just been a way to get his own back at the prat as well as prove he wasn't entirely useless. This way he could be there when it mattered and Arthur had no right to force him into carrying all the supplies on a hunt or whatever it would've been next.  
'Well as long as you're here I have something I want you to do,' Arthur said quietly so that Uther wouldn't hear as he engaged in a conversation about the redistribution of land owned by lords throughout Camelot. Merlin leaned in when Arthur gestured. 'Say something or just do something that will get me out of this horrendous banquet. These nobles are insufferable and I can't take their kissing-up anymore. So despite winning that ridiculous contest I would much appreciate it if you could please help me.'  
'Right you are, Sire,' Merlin replied with a curt nod, smiling slightly at the way Arthur struggled to say please. His mind raced to think of something he could do and the oddest idea came to him. They all thought he was mad as it was, so why not go all out? Make a show of it, and help Arthur in the process. It would surely work. Swallowing the lump in his throat he approached Uther's seat, shivering when the power it exuded wrapped around him like a snare. Clearing his throat rudely Uther faced him with a look of utter disdain.  
'What is it?' he snapped, even the notion of a servant talking to a King in the middle of a conversation was deeply frowned upon.  
'I have something I'd like to say,' Merlin informed him, settling into the skin of his melodramatic self.  
'Yes, I know, but what would it be? Quickly,' Uther said with finite kingly patience.  
'I'm completely and undeniably besotted with your son,' he declared loudly. Loud enough for the background music to die away and conversation stop mid-sentence.  
'I beg your pardon?'  
'Merlin,' Arthur sight with exasperation, resting his head in his hands rather than face the sea of faces staring with wide eyes in their direction.  
'I can't deny it any more, Arthur,' Merlin continued, the fake exclamation ringing true with the smallest part of him. It was both terrifying and exhilarating. Mostly terrifying. 'I'm in love with Arthur Pendragon. Not as a friend, or as his manservant, but as a man would love another man with all the connotations one might take from such a statement.'  
'Is this some kind of joke?' Uther inquired, still reeling in disbelief. Most of the guests gasped, a few looked impartial to it either way, and some seemed genuinely offended about the interruption of their evening.  
'Sorry, father. I think I need to have a word with Merlin outside. You don't mind if I excuse myself, do you?'  
'As long as you get this sorted out,' Uther said. 'And Merlin, if, after you two have your discussion, you still find you are in love with my son I will have you banished from Camelot.'  
He felt all breathe leave his lungs. 'What?'  
'I can't have a personal servant in the throws of young love, especially love of such a heinous kind. Bare that in mind while you discuss this with my son,' he said calmly, but the threat hit Merlin was shocking strength. Arthur stood, the scraping of the chair on the stone ground a painful sound in the now deathly silent hall. He led Merlin out, and the second the heavy oak doors had closed rounded on him.  
'You really thought declaring your undying love of me to my father was the best way to get me out?' he hissed, pointing an accusing finger at Merlin's face.  
He held up his hands, expressing his innocence. 'It worked didn't it? It wasn't undying love, just for the record.'  
'The whole of Camelot won't be able to shut up about this. He threatened to banish you, Merlin! Just because you some impressive knife throwing skills or whatever, it does not give you the right to put yourself on the line like that. Ever.'  
'If you weren't visibly seething with anger I'd like to think that's concern I hear.' Merlin remarked, trying to keep his tone light but his smile faltered.  
'Of course I'm concerned!' he shouted, throwing an arm into the air with a flourish of aristocratic drama. Arthur rubbed his temples whilst Merlin stayed still against the stone wall. 'You just-'  
'Yes?' Merlin pressed softly, not quiet out of shyness, but out of a deep intrigue in what he would say. Arthur ambled forward until he stood an inch away from Merlin, putting one hand against the wall beside his head. He then moved the other hand to other side and boxed him in. Merlin saw the oddly glazed look in Arthur's eyes and a was trapped in a smothering stare.  
'Merlin,' he began, having moved so close his hot breath rolled against Merlin's frozen face. 'I can't lose my talented manservant, now can I? Who would clean my boots?'  
'And fetch you water, food, shine your swords and armour, fetch spears you throw when on hunts-'  
'Shut up, Merlin,' Arthur whispered before he pushed his lips against those of the young warlock's.


End file.
